Aching Alone
by RainingStarWars
Summary: Even smugglers get lonely every now and then. Sometimes, all we really need is a shoulder to cry on.


The Hoth rebel base's cafeteria was nearly as frigid as the frozen wasteland outside. No one bothered to keep anywhere other than the living quarters heated during the night, which was perfectly acceptable since everyone should be sound asleep at the late hour. They _should_ be asleep, but that didn't mean that everyone was.

Han Solo sat at one of the many empty tables, staring down at his shivering hands. They rested on the cold metal table, folded together neatly as he said nothing. Han probably should have been back on the _Falcon_ with Chewie, sleeping peacefully like everyone else, but for some reason, he wasn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep. On the contrary, he'd much rather be sleeping than sitting there freezing. Yet... He just couldn't.

It had been a few days since Han had rushed out into the deadly nighttime temperatures of Hoth to rescue the missing Luke Skywalker, which it was lucky that he did considering the fact that the kid probably wouldn't be breathing right now if he hadn't. Most people would feel good about saving someone's life like that, and he did. But even though he was happy to see Luke alive, Han had started to feel out of it all the sudden.

He could still work on the _Falcon_ with Chewie, irritate the stars out of Princess Leia, and keep his reputation as a lone flyer, but on the inside he felt... Different. Bad different. Suddenly, he had began to feel strange. It was almost like sadness when you feel that dropped out sensation in your chest, yet it was worse. Far worse.

Han knew the emotion all too well, but he had refused to acknowledge it until now. He had covered it up with his egotistical flare, pushed it away with his crave for money to pay off his dept, but now it was stronger than ever. He wanted to ignore it more, but that action was impossible as he allowed the word to form in his head.

Han Solo was lonely.

He had been for a long time. Not lonely in the sense that no one was around, seeing as he was surrounded by many people in the rebellion. He even had Chewie by his side at nearly all times, so why did Han feel so alone? Maybe it was because he made himself that way.

It was obvious that most people didn't like Han. The other rebels probably thought he wasn't good for anything more than being a good pilot, Luke certainly had to think he was a stuck up and self-centered nobody, and the princess... Well, she probably hated him more than anyone. Of course, Han didn't blame them for thinking that way. Besides, most of it was probably true.

Yet the smuggler wanted to be friends with them. He didn't at first, being so caught up in his own life that he didn't want to think about anyone else, but now he realized that he did, in fact, want to be friends with the others. But now, Han's big ego — which he was suddenly starting to disagree with a little — had caused them to brush him off. They probably figured that Han Solo, captain of the _Millennium Falcon_ , did not need a friend. He had his co-pilot Chewbacca, and that was all he required.

But they were wrong.

Han and Chewie may have been close, but now he was beginning to wonder if Chewie merely tolerated him. Was Chewie only there for benefit? After thinking this, Han realized how ridiculous the idea was. The wookie had nothing to benefit from being around him, and he was clearly there because he _wanted_ to be.

This made Han feel slightly better, but he still had that gaping hole feeling in his chest. He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the chilly table and laying his head on one wobbly palm. Huh... It was funny how one could still be so alone when surrounded by so many people. Stuck up, self-centered, and "I don't need anyone" Han tried to stand tall and think that he was better off alone, but the _real_ Han knew better than that.

He knew how he felt about Leia, and he knew how she felt about him. This twisted his stomach even more as he thought about the fact that he was actually caring about someone other than himself. He obviously was more concerned with Luke than himself when he nearly froze trying to rescue the kid. Three years ago, Han was certain that _nothing_ could motivate him to do such as thing, but he was clearly wrong.

Han realized that he would probably do the same thing all over again if he had too, and he would do the same for Chewie and Leia as well. He loved all of them dearly, and the realization that they likely did not feel the same way back made a burning sensation fill his eyes. Was he about to cry? Han didn't think such an action was possible from himself. He was, after all, Han Solo.

But he knew the real Han, and he decided it was best to let him out for a little while. As he released the true him, warm tears flowed steadily down his cheeks. He didn't break down and sob, knowing his ego was still too big to allow him to do that, but Han did cry a river. A dam had been filling up inside him for a long time, and the gentle stream falling from his hazel eyes was far from half of it. Han would likely have to cry all night to be truly relieved, and even then that may not be enough.

"Han?" a young and soft voice broke him from his grief. Han's head snapped sideways at the voice, leading him to see a shorter male with messy, light blonde hair and blue eyes that glowed in the dim cafeteria light. Why, it was none other than Luke Skywalker himself. How long the younger man had been standing there, Han didn't know, but it only took him a second to realize his position.

He wiped his eyes furiously, trying in vain to conceal his dismay. Han turned to Luke, hoping his eyes weren't as red as he thought they were. "Ah... Hey, kid." he sniffed, trying to lower his voice back to it's normal tone. "What, ah... What are you doin' awake?" Luke shot the man a suspicious glance, raising an eyebrow as he did so. The man had clearly only awoken a few minutes ago from the bags beneath his eyes.

"I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." he answered, staring at Han. The Corellian wiped at his eyes again self-consciously. "Can I ask what _you_ are doing awake?" Luke had sounded much gentler when he had spoken to Han the past few days. Maybe it was because he risked his life to rescue the kid. Han sighed through clenched teeth, feeling stuck.

"I, ah... I was just havin' trouble goin' to bed." Han lied. "Nothin' important." but he knew Luke wasn't buying it. He looked down at his hands again, tapping his thumbs together awkwardly. Luke stared at him for a moment, the confused expression suddenly turning to one of sympathy. The young jedi sat down in front of the smuggler, staring into his eyes.

"Something is wrong." he said. It wasn't a question. Han looked up at Luke, knowing it was true. Luke could tell it was true, too, but Han wouldn't give up that easy.

"Whadda ya mean?" he asked as if he were startled by the question. Luke knew better, though. He scrunched up his eyebrows in a way that made them appear to knit together. The kid was clearly concerned.

"You've been crying. I saw you." Luke finished softly, knowing Han couldn't deny it. Han knew as well, but he didn't want to say anything. He wasn't supposed to be weak. He was Han Solo, after all! Han tried his best crooked smile, acting like the situation had humored him.

"Real funny, kid." Han rolled his eyes, but his voice didn't sound as confident. "Me cryin'. Like that would happen." he tried to force a laugh, but it didn't sound as realistic as he had hoped. Luke stared at him, not saying a word. Han quieted down and looked away, feeling the gaping hole in his chest turn uncomfortably. His eyes scrunched up and he clenched his teeth as the knowledge that he was aching alone swept over him like a tidal wave.

Luke could see the internal struggle the Corellian was fighting, causing all — if any — anger he had towards the man before to diminish into nothing. Han Solo was not just a self-absorbed smuggler. He was a human being with feelings just like Luke, Leia, and every other person in the galaxy. It was this realization and the memory of Han nearly dying to save him from the deadly planet of Hoth that caused Luke to reach out his hand and place it on Han's own. The smuggler looked over to him with slight surprise.

"I'm sorry." Luke said quietly, looking down shamefully. Han raised his eyebrows, startled by the younger man's statement. He pulled his hand away from Luke's, making the blonde look up at him again. Luke smiled sadly before looking back down. Han just stared at him.

"Why?" he asked in bewilderment. "You haven't done anything!" at this, Luke laughed bitterly.

"That's the thing." he shook his head. Han continued to stare with a puzzled expression. "I _haven't_ done anything." Luke explained. "You saved my life two times and I haven't even thanked you once. I've been a jerk. We all have..." he finished in a whisper. Han took a moment to consider what Luke was saying. The kid was apologizing. To _him_. But... Luke still had no right to do so. Han was the one who should be apologizing, not him!

"Are you serious, kid?" the smuggler scoffed. "I'm the one who should be apologizing! I've been nothin' but a burden on this rebellion since the day I joined. You'd all be better off if I just left." he confessed bitterly. Luke frowned at the harsh words, a scowl finding its way to his brow.

"Don't say that!" he said in a furious voice Han had never heard him use before. Han looked at him with a startled expression, causing Luke's to soften. He continued in a gentle tone. "If it weren't for you, we would have never rescued Leia. We would have never destroyed the Death Star. Hell, if it weren't for you, I would be an icicle right now." he laughed slightly as he finished, making Han smile a little as well, but it quickly turned into a frown again.

Han looked away, rubbing his hands together anxiously. For some reason, nothing Luke told him helped fill the gaping hole in his chest. What the kid had just said only seemed to say that he was a good pilot and nothing more. The thought reached down his being and ripped his chest open even more, causing Han to feel tears begin to glisten in his eyes. In hopes to avoid Luke noticing, Han forced words out as he tried to contain the tears again. "I... don't... need your... pity..." he choked in a very non Han Solo-like voice.

To Han's surprise, Luke nodded. "I know you don't." the blond said as he stood. Han watched as Luke walked around the table, then proceeded to sit down beside the Corellian. He stared at the younger man, who stared back with sad blue eyes. Luke wrapped his arm over Han's shoulders in a brotherly fashion before nodding slowly once again.

Han stared at the kid a moment longer before it all became unbearable. The tears rushed down his face, falling heavier than they had before. Han laid his face in the white fabic covering Luke's shoulder, trying his best not to sob too loudly. Although, honestly, he didn't care anymore. Luke sat silently as his friend released all his troubles onto his shoulder.

When no more tears could be shed, Luke allowed Han to just sit there with his face on the younger man's shoulder and collect himself. Luke patted the smuggler's back soothingly. This man would not be allowed to ache all by himself ever again. Han was now his friend. Not just any friend, his _best_ friend. His big brother.

The hole in Han's chest had gradually sealed up with each tear fallen, and even though his eyes were still moist from crying, a small, grateful smile spread across the man's lips. He wasn't alone, and he never would be again.


End file.
